


A Party And The Unusual Events That Followed

by thelookyouredoingthelookagain



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU: Different First Meeting, AU: Unilock, Anxiety, College, Coming Out, Confusion, Drunkenness, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Flirting, Kissing, M/M, Party, Sexual Experimentation, date, hangovers, talking about sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 07:28:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4778753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelookyouredoingthelookagain/pseuds/thelookyouredoingthelookagain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock unexpectedly meet at a party. What happens next is even more unexpected for both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Two Drunk Kids Meet At A Party

**Author's Note:**

> All works here were produced by two friends in the fandom. One writes as SH and one as John, and we edit together. Our characters are based on the BBC's _Sherlock_ , though we don't mind playing a little loosely with canon and the occasional AU. We have whims and like to follow them. While we like to torture our boys with constant misunderstandings, we know they belong together and we always see to that.
> 
> All posted works are complete, and we hope there will be something for everyone. Please take a look at our other works. Just a note, though, there's pretty much always going to be smut. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst, but always smut. We can't help it: that's just the way we are.
> 
> We plan to add new work each weekend, so please subscribe.
> 
> We also really appreciate the kudos and comments. They mean a lot -- sometimes they inspire new ideas and works, sometimes they just make us feel all warm inside.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

John was drunk. He was also angry because he hadn't wanted to get drunk and now here he was. He blamed Greg, who not only was the one to drag him here but was also the one that kept bringing him drinks.

"You can't just come to a party and do nothing," he'd said, not even considering that John could have just not come to the party. He'd only just managed to get away from Greg who appeared dedicated to his mission of finding John some girl to take upstairs. But John didn't like girls.

Not that he'd ever told Greg that. He had just become really good at avoiding. Avoiding going to the pub with him on weekends, avoiding parties as often as he could, and avoiding questions about why he never went out on dates.

"Studying for med school," he'd say and watch as their eyes rolled and heads shook. But he didn't care what they thought. He would tell them if the actual question of it came up, but there was no point just throwing it out there.

Just then he saw Greg coming towards the sofa and he got up quickly, disappearing into the kitchen instead. There was a couple snogging on the table and he moved to the other side, suddenly very interested in the bowl of crisps.  

Sherlock, of course, hadn't wanted to go to the party but he had hoped it wouldn't be quite as bad as it had turned out to be. Why he had hoped this, he now realised was stupid -- he had been thinking that one of his friend's parties wouldn't be quite the usual loud, drunken affair, but Sebastian wasn't really a friend, he just was someone that Sherlock knew from first year. Yes, they had a lot of classes together, but they weren't really friends. Sherlock really regretted not seeing things more clearly before agreeing to attend.

However, he had agreed and found that the easiest way to get through the discomfort was to keep drinking which was what he had done and which was why, he had the sense to tell, he was now quite drunk. This was made clear to him by his overwhelming desire to get up and dance, something his logical brain (which still had to be in there somewhere, right?) knew he only had when he was properly drunk. He decided it might be best to get away from the music so he stood up to go outside for a smoke.

He headed through the kitchen and stopped to get another drink -- he was drunk enough to think that another one would make no difference. He stood next to a couple snogging and refilled his glass. "I hope one of you had the sense to bring condoms," he said aloud, though they didn't appear to hear him. He turned and bumped into someone standing by the snacks. "If you have any condoms," he said to the guy, "you might want to lend them one. No, just give it to them -- lending implies they'll be returning it and I doubt you want that." Yes, Sherlock thought, he was definitely drunk. "I'm going outside," he told the stranger for no reason whatsoever, and turned to head out the back door.

When John looked up to see who bumped him, he was sure Greg had found him. But this wasn't Greg. This was . . . well, he didn't know who this was but he really enjoyed looking at him. He had dark curly hair that fell in a way that made John want to push it back out of his eyes. And then he was walking away and John realised he'd been talking that whole time. He poured himself a drink and followed him outside. "Sorry, I didn't hear you," he said. 

"I was just asking if you had any condoms," Sherlock said, lighting a cigarette. He offered one to the stranger, whom he thought he might recognise but wasn't sure if he thought this because he was drunk. He tried to read him but really all Sherlock could see was 'also drunk' written across the stranger's face.

"Oh. No, I don't have any with me but I'm sure all the bedrooms are stocked," John said. He might've wondered why this guy was asking for condoms, but it didn't matter. At least Greg would likely not find him out here. He shook his head to the cigarette and drank his drink instead.

"I don't need condoms," Sherlock said, looking him up and down, "but I'm wondering why you'd come to a party without them, a good looking chap like yourself." He took a sip of his drink, which turned out to be a gulp but he tried not to cough. He took another drag on his cigarette and looked around at the neighbouring gardens. He turned back to the stranger, as if he'd forgotten he was standing there, and shook his head. "Why were we talking about condoms again? I can't remember."

John felt his cheeks heat up and he took another gulp. "Well, I don't need them either," he said. "You brought them up."

"Right," Sherlock said. "Are you normally an idiot or is it just because you're drunk, which is not really an excuse for being an idiot."

"I'm not an idiot at all!" John protested. "I don't even know why I followed you." He finished his drink and turned to go back inside. "If you need condoms they are in the drawers," he added.

"Hey," Sherlock called. "I told you I don't need condoms, but you are an idiot if you have sex without them, you know. Sorry," he mumbled, "sorry."

John paused, swallowing hard and looking over at him. He moved back to stand beside him. "Don't call me an idiot," he smiled, nudging his arm.

"Fine," Sherlock said, "sorry -- I'm usually less abrasive when I'm drunk. Which I seem to be. But seriously, you shouldn't have sex without protection -- is that what you came to uni for? To get someone pregnant or get an STD?" He found himself surprisingly glad the guy had returned to speak to him.

"No. I came to uni so I can be a doctor. I'm the last person having unprotected sex," John said. He usually hated talking about things like this but he was a bit of an open book when drunk. Another reason to avoid Greg. 

"Well, I am incredibly relieved to hear that," Sherlock said, even though he wasn't sure why he said it aloud. "What's your name?"

"John. John Watson. And yours?" John leaned against the wall and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"Sherlock Holmes," Sherlock said. "I'm not normally drunk," he added.

John chuckled. "I'm not normally drunk either," he said.

"Why are you now then?" Sherlock asked. He looked over John's face, which was handsome and looked a little older than it probably was.

"Why are you?" John countered instead of properly answering. He looked up at Sherlock again and studied his face. Why hadn't Greg ever introduced him to Sherlock before?

"Because I'm at a party held by someone I don't particularly like with people I don't know and probably wouldn't like. Holding a drink and then drinking it seemed better than just standing and scowling. Well, it was something to do in addition to standing and scowling," Sherlock said.

John laughed as though Sherlock had said the funniest thing. "Well, I'm drunk because my friend thinks I'm being boring. And he's trying to make me take a girl upstairs."

"Which girl?" Sherlock asked. "I'm quite good at . . . reading people. Point her out and I'll tell you what to expect." He looked over John's head, back into the kitchen.

"Stop that," he said, touching the back of Sherlock's neck to turn him around again. "Any girl, but he doesn't -- well, I don't want to take a girl up." He drained his glass and looked down at it, considering getting more.

"What's it to him? Why does he care who you take anywhere?" Sherlock asked.

"He's just trying to be a good friend -- you know, hook me up or something. He cares about sex more than I do, so he thinks it's a good present. If I introduced him to a girl and they had sex, I'd be number one in his book."

"All right then," Sherlock said, smiling. "Let's go chat to him. Then I'll find a girl for him and then you'll be number one and he'll leave you alone. And then we can come back out here and we won't be hiding from anyone anymore." He turned. "Come on, we both need more to drink anyway. There's no reason to sober up at this point."

"Yeah, all right," John agreed.

They headed inside and topped up their glasses in the kitchen. "Our friends on the table are gone," Sherlock said, smiling. "I hope they did have condoms." He followed John as he looked around for Greg and then they moved over to the sofa where he was sitting.

After John introduced him, Sherlock said, "I've got a friend who quite fancies you. You might be interested. What do you study? Name two of your hobbies and one thing you've ashamed of."  
  
Greg raised his eyebrows at John, but seeing as how he hadn't really met anyone at the party yet, he answered Sherlock's questions. "Criminal justice, rugby, football and . . . um . . . I'm trying to quit smoking, but I've not yet." He glanced up at John and shrugged.

"Right," Sherlock said. "I'll be back in a minute."  
  
"He's going to get you laid," John said, taking a drink like that was a normal thing to say.

"Sorry?"

John merely grinned at him, drinking more of his drink. "Now you can leave me alone," he added.

"I'm trying to get you laid!" Greg protested.

John shrugged and finished his drink. He went to the kitchen and came back with another.

Sherlock wandered around the party until he saw a woman who looked like a possibility. She matched John's friend, who was pretty handsome, in terms of attractiveness and looked relatively fit so might be into sports. She was smiling but was wringing her fingers. He walked over.

"Want to go out for a smoke?" he asked her.

"No, I'm trying to quit," she said, smiling at him.

"Look, I hope you don't think is too forward, but I've got a friend who has been admiring you for most of the evening. He can be a bit shy, though, and his heart is easily broken, so I took it upon myself to come up and speak to you on his behalf. I was wondering, would you like me to introduce you? There's no obligation -- if you don't fancy him, don't sit down and I'll come up with some reason for you to leave. It's just . . . he's just so . . . romantic, and I don't want him to feel rejected." Sherlock worried that he was laying it on a bit thick, but since alcohol was flowing so freely, he hoped it wouldn't be noticed. "He's over there," he said, motioning with his head. "The handsome one in the grey shirt."  
  
She looked over and then back at Sherlock. "That's sweet," she said. "All right, why not? But if I don't sit down, you'll save me, right? I don't want to hurt his feelings."  
  
"Of course," Sherlock said. "I'm just trying to help a friend. What's your name, by the way?"

"Molly," she said. She fiddled with her hair a little.

"I'm Sherlock," he said, shaking her hand. "You look lovely, Molly, come on."

He led her over to and said, "Molly, this is . . ." his mind went blank when luckily Greg stood up and said, "Greg Lestrade. Hi Molly."  
  
Molly smiled. "Hi Greg . . . I think I've seen you -- are you on the rugby team?"  
  
"Yeah," Greg said, smiling. "Here, sit down, do you need another drink or anything?"  
  
"No, I'm fine," Molly said, glancing up at Sherlock before she sat down. "And how do you know Sherlock?"

Greg looked up, but Sherlock jumped in, "We used to have class together. Anyway, John, let's get ourselves another drink, yeah?"

John grinned at Greg and raised his drink before leaving. "I finished mine and got another. I'm beating you," he teased Sherlock.

"Depends on what time you started drinking," Sherlock said. He poured another and led John outside. He sat down on the step. "It's nicer out here -- quieter, less idiots. Do you know the guys who live here? Sorry, if they're friends of yours. I just know the one, Sebastian, but we're not really friends."

"No, I don't know anyone except the rugby guys. I mean, I know people from class but I don't know them," he rambled. "But I like it better out here, too."

"I wonder why we've never met," Sherlock said. He looked at John's face. He really was handsome, though, maybe Sherlock's guard was a little down thanks to the drink. He doubted John would be interested in being friends with him, let alone anything else. Still, he preferred talking to John even if they never talked again.

"Well, like I said, rugby boys. And no offense, but it doesn't look like you play rugby." John grinned and patted Sherlock's arm.

"So you just like rugby boys, then?" Sherlock said.

"No. I said I only know rugby boys," John smiled. He looked up at Sherlock then and felt completely open and calm. He wasn't like others -- making John feel reserved or nervous about himself. Our maybe it was the alcohol. But then again, even drunk he'd never told Greg his secret. "I like all kinds of boys," he said quietly.

"I see," Sherlock said. "And you don't want your friend to know? Why, do you fancy him or something?"

"Greg? No way," John scoffed, shaking his head. "And he's . . . he likes girls," John added. 

"Right . . . right," Sherlock took a drink. "But why would he care who you like? If he just wants you to have sex . . . I mean, there's plenty of guys here."

"He doesn't know," John said, wishing he had more to drink. "And even if he did, I'm not...it's different."

"You're not . . . what? Interested in sex with guys?" Sherlock said, lighting a cigarette. "I have a feeling you're lying but I'm not sure to whom. Whatever. I don't want to hassle you -- I barely know you and there are plenty of other people for me to hassle."

"I'm not interested in anonymous one night stands," John said without elaborating. He got up and went inside, filling his glass before coming back out.

Sherlock watched John get up and then return. That was a good sign, he thought. "That didn't precisely answer what I asked," he said, "but still. We can change the subject. Do you live with your rugby mates or on your own?"

"I have a room on campus," John said. He chugged down his drink and sighed. He was going to regret this, he knew it already.

"Hmmm . . . are you always such an excellent conversationalist?" Sherlock asked, smiling.

"Nope, you're getting all my best stuff," John laughed loudly. "I'm sorry. Where do you live? Do you live alone? Do you have a girlfriend?"

"I have a flat off the main road. I live on my own. I don't have a girlfriend. Obviously," Sherlock said, lighting another cigarette.

"Obviously? How would I have known that?" John asked, finished his drink. He set the cup down for a small break.

"Because obviously I'm interested in guys. You really need to pay better attention if you plan to be a doctor. I would suggest you not operate while you're drunk because you're a bit slow on the uptake," Sherlock said. He inhaled and exhaled slow and long. 

"I wouldn't -- wait. How was I supposed to know that unless you told me? You thought I liked girls -- it's not like it's written on our foreheads."

"True, kind of. But I told you, I'm good at reading people. You're not. Obviously. However, have a think -- could it be that I just set up your friend as an excuse to get you to spend some time alone with me? Why would I do that -- out of kindness? I'm not a particularly kind person, John." 

"I wouldn't know anything about how kind you are because I don't know you. And is that what you did?" John asked, looking over at him now. He found himself hoping for that to be true.

"I imagine it probably is," Sherlock said. "It seems like the kind of thing I might do."

"And what were planning on doing when you got me here? Alone, I mean?"

"I suppose I'd let you tell me what you wanted me to do," Sherlock answered.

John leaned back against the house and looked over at him like he'd never seen anything like Sherlock. He was so very drunk. "Kiss me," he said easily.

Sherlock leaned and kissed John's mouth. It was a drunken kiss indeed, not very precise or neat, but definitely served its purpose. He lifted on hand to John's head and gripped his hair before letting go and pulling back, taking a final drag and finishing off his drink.

Sherlock tasted like cigarettes and alcohol, and in their drunken state the kiss was a mess. But when their lips touched heat exploded through John and he brought his own hand to Sherlock's neck, holding desperately until Sherlock was pulling away. John watched him, licking his lips and breathing a bit heavily.

"So that's the kind of thing you like, then?" Sherlock said.

"Kissing?" John asked, looking over at him.

"Kissing men," Sherlock clarified.

"Oh. Yeah, I suppose so," John said. He wasn't embarrassed to admit that to Sherlock. Seeing as they had just kissed that would have been silly. And he was now so drunk he felt himself opening up a lot more than he normally would have.

"It's the kind of thing I like as well," Sherlock said. "And do you do a lot of it?"

John laughed again. "First time with a boy," he admitted with a loud whisper. He was feeling so light and giddy.

"Really?" Sherlock said. "That's unusual. Well, I hope it was all right and hasn't put you off for life." 

"It was fantastic," John said. He leaves back against the wall. "How many boys have you kissed?"

"A few," Sherlock said. "But only one at this party. And he's been my favourite so far."

John laughed hard at that. "That's nice," he sighed. "The boy I kissed is my favourite, too." He chuckled softly and sighed again.

"Are you thinking you might kiss a few more?" Sherlock said, fiddling with something on the ground. "You should be careful, what with your not having any condoms on you, you know."

"You don't need a condom to kiss," John said. "And I only want to kiss the same one, if anything. He was really good."

Sherlock smiled. "I wouldn't mind kissing the same one again. He also was quite good."  
  
John shifted to look up at him, staying close and admiring his eyes and the lovely shape of his mouth.

Sherlock leaned in and kissed John's mouth again, this time a little harder. He put his hands in John's hair and held his head, deepening the kiss.

John hummed softly, lacing his own fingers into Sherlock's hair as he pressed into the kiss. The same heat as before flooded through him and he craved it. He pressed closer wanting more. Just then a loud bang made him pull away and look around.

"Uh . . . John?"

It was Greg. John was much too drunk to realise what this meant. "Go away," he said, turning back to face Sherlock.

"Uh . . . right. Listen, I'm taking Molly out for coffee . . . will you be able to get home?" Greg asked.

"Yes. I'll be fine," John said, looking back at him. "Fine," he nodded.

"Um, okay. See you," Greg said, leaving with Molly.

Sherlock didn't say anything, but watched Greg and Molly leave. He was quite pleased that he had matched them well, but then turned his attention back to John.

"I guess he knows now," he said. He rested his hand on John's leg. "Look, maybe we should get going as well. Should I walk you back to your room . . . or do you want to come to mine?" He wasn't entirely sure that was a good idea, but there was a part of him that very much wanted to keep kissing. 

John waved his hand, not caring about Greg. He didn't even know what Greg supposedly knew. "My roommate is gone for the weekend," John said in answer.

"Let me walk you home, yeah?" Sherlock said, slowly standing up and reaching down to help John. Sherlock was drunk, but all of a sudden John seemed very drunk and Sherlock was a little worried about him. "Do you remember how to get to your room?"

"Yeah," John nodded, not letting go of his hand when he stood up. "This way." He led then around the side of the house and down to the road, walking slowly. "I don't want to use condoms." He laughed and shook his head. "I mean . .. I don't want to need them, you know?"

"John, maybe we should just say good night when we get to yours? We could see each other again," Sherlock said, "but maybe tomorrow, yeah? What do you think?" John was now leaning on him, which felt good and tempting, but Sherlock was trying to be sensible.

"No more kissing?" John asked, looking up at him.

"Well, a good night kiss," Sherlock said. He would happily kiss much more, but he didn't want to take advantage of their drunkenness. John seemed to not care about his friend's knowing, but he had cared earlier so Sherlock was worried John was making decisions he'd regret when sober.

"Okay," John said, giggling softly again for no reason. He started walking slower. He was so sleepy.

"I'm glad we've met, John Watson," Sherlock said, holding tightly to help steady John. "I hope we do see each other again."

"Me too," John said. He pulled Sherlock down another street and just a minute later they were in front of a tall building. "This is me," he said. "Goodbye kiss here?" He tugged on Sherlock's shirt as he waited for an answer.

Sherlock turned and looked at John. He cupped his head in his hands and leaned down to kiss him softly. He stopped the kiss but kept his face close to John's. "I hope we can do this again as well," he said. "Good night, John Watson," he added as he turned to head home.

"Good night," he called after him. He was climbing the stairs when he realised he didn't remember his name. But that's okay because he would find John tomorrow and everything would be okay. He fell into his bed without changing and he went asleep instantly.


	2. Two Hungover Kids Have Trouble Remembering

John woke up the next morning to loud pounding on the door. He groaned and tried to ignore it, but whoever was there started shouting as well. John groaned louder and got up, stumbling a bit to the door and pulling it open.

"Morning, John!"

John winced and tried to shut the door in Greg's face, but he caught the edge and John had no energy to fight him. "Oh. You're alone?" Greg said, looking round the room.

"Why wouldn't I be?" John asked, sinking on the edge of Mike's bed. It was made so obviously his roommate was already up and out. John rubbed his temples and tried to piece together the night. 

"You don't remember your little make out buddy?" Greg asked, grinning as he sat on the bad. "I remember mine. Molly is great. We had coffee and I walked her home. I actually like her a lot," he smiled. 

"I don't remember -- what did she look like?" John asked, trying to bring back memories of kissing someone. His mouth tasted faintly of cigarettes. "Did she smoke?"

"Um . . . how drunk were you, John?" Greg asked, slapping the side of his arm. "Sherlock is . . . pretty, I guess. But he's not a girl."

 _He_. John's stomach twisted so violently he almost threw up. "What?" he asked weakly. 

"Sherlock -- the boy you were kissing? Did you know he was a boy?"

John stared back at him as pieces floated into his head. Dark curls. Smoking. Lovely lips. He flushed and looked down, wringing his hands. 

"Hey, if I had known you like boys I'd have been a better wingman," Greg said. 

"No one knows," John said. "I mean, it's not a secret exactly, but..." He trailed off and tried to remember who Sherlock was. Why didn't he know this person?

"Oh. Well, that's cool. Listen, are you seeing him again?"

"I don't remember anything about it -- about him," John admitted. 

"Well, come get breakfast with me and we'll try and find him," Greg said. "You were really into him last night -- it's not because you were just wasted, right? You really like guys?"

"I . . . yeah," John nodded. 

Greg smiled and threw him his jacket. "Let's go."

Sherlock woke up still dressed in his clothes. His head felt quite foggy. He tried to remember last night, but all he could remember was drinking -- every image that flashed in his mind was of his pouring or sipping a drink. He stood up -- his head really hurt actually -- and moved very slowly to the kettle to make a cup of tea. 

He opened this laptop and checked his email. There was one from Sebastian asking where he had gone off to. Sherlock tried to remember exactly where he had gone off to -- it felt specific, it wasn't just that he snuck off, even though it would have made sense if he had. But it felt like he had been doing something . . . maybe with someone but he couldn't quite recall. He stared out the window, trying to remember.

Molly met them for breakfast and the three of them chatted for a bit before Greg dove right in. "Listen, Molly, we need to find your friend from last night."

"My friend?" 

"Yeah, the guy that introduced us," he reminded her. 

"Oh. He told me he was your friend," Molly said. She looked between them. "I'm sorry, I only just met him last night . . ."

"That's okay," John said, ignoring the look from Greg. In all honesty he was nervous about finding Sherlock. He had never kissed a boy before and now he didn't know what to do about it. He hardly remembered the kid and what if they met and he was terrible? John would have wasted his first -- well, sort of first -- kiss on some fool. But then he was even more scared of Sherlock not being a fool -- of Sherlock being a very good looking guy who would see John now and think the whole thing had just been a stupid, drunken mistake. He mixed his breakfast and didn't eat. He didn't feel good at all.   

Sherlock showered and got dressed in clean clothes. He dug in his beside cabinet to look for his notebook and saw an unopened box of condoms. The condoms reminded him of last night -- but why? He knew he hadn't had sex with anyone, but condoms were definitely discussed. Why?

He wished he had someone to ask, but he didn't -- he wasn't about to call Sebastian and he didn't really remember being around him much last night anyway. He decided to go out and walk back towards the house to see if anything came to him.

"Let's walk back to the house," Molly said suddenly. 

"What?" John asked, looking up at her. 

"Yeah! Seb might know who that guy is, and where to find him," Greg agreed excitedly. 

"No! I . . . we're not going to go stalk the house in hopes that he turns up there, that's pathetic. I don't even remember him," John said.  

"We're not going to stalk the house. We're going to ask," Molly said. "Come on!"

She got up and Greg followed, tugging John behind him as they went. He felt like he was going to be sick again so he kept his mouth shut as they walked along the street. John tried desperately to remember what Sherlock looked like, to remember kissing him. Anything.

As Sherlock turned the corner, he saw three students coming from another corner. They all looked familiar. He ducked back behind a car and watched them. The woman -- he definitely spoke to her last night but he didn't think there was anything else. The taller guy -- good looking but the memory of him was much foggier. The shorter guy -- handsome. Suddenly Sherlock remembered him -- well remembered that they had spoken. He knew that, but was still not sure about if something else had happened.

John started to hang back as they approached the house. "I don't want to go."

Greg and Molly stopped, looking back at him. "Why not?" Molly asked. 

John shook his head. "I . . . I don't want to know. I don't want to find out," he said stupidly. When they both stared at him he sighed loudly. "I don't want him to be . . .gross. And I don't want to see him look disappointed because I'm gross."

Molly giggled. "He was definitely not gross," she said, kissing Greg's cheek when he looked over at her incredulously. "And you're not gross either, John. Maybe we can just find out where he is and we can scope him out before you decide to do anything."

John hesitated, looking around the empty street. "Okay," he sighed. 

Sherlock watched the three of them walk up to the house. He wanted to find out who the handsome one was, but there was no way he was going to go up and speak to him with the other two there. Was one of them Seb's roommate? God, why couldn't he remember? He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to go back, but he was still just seeing images -- there was definitely talking but he was sure there was also kissing.

"Just let me do all of the talking, yeah? You two can wait here," Molly said as they got to the house. Greg stayed close by and John waited on the pavement. Molly knocked on the door loudly, rocking on her heels as she waited for someone to come answer. 

Seb squinted at the brightness as he opened the door. "Jesus," he said, then looked up and said, "Sorry, hey Molly. What's going on?"

"Yeah, well, last night I was talking to a guy but I didn't get his number and I think you might know him," she said.

"Uh-huh -- just 'talking' eh?" Sebastian said.

"No, seriously," Molly said, "I just want to talk to him. Seriously," she reached back to encourage Greg to come forward. "Me and Greg just wanted to ask him a question. He was tall, had kind of curly hair -- Greg says he's called Sherlock. Know him? Is he still here?" 

Seb stepped back and looked around the living room. "Yeah, I know him but he's not here," he said, "He doesn't usually stay around long. I've got his number, though, hold on." Seb moved to grab his phone and scrolled through until he found Sherlock's number. "Here," he said, handing her his phone.

John was looking around the street again as Molly and Greg talked to Sebastian. A minute later they came back and Molly handed John her phone. "That's his number. Save it in your phone and text him."

"What? No way. What would I tell him?" John asked.  

"That you had a good time last night and you are checking to see if he's okay," Greg said easily. 

"And how do I explain having his number?"

"Please. He was probably drunk, too. For all he knows he gave it to you last night. Text him!" 

John looked between the two of them and opened up a message to him. 

_Just checking to see if you're okay. -JW_

_It's me, by the way. -JW_

_The guy you kissed. -JW_

John groaned and wished the ground would open up and swallow him. 

Sherlock's phone rang and he grabbed it as quickly as he could, ducking down even further. He peeked around, hoping they hadn't heard it. He opened it and smiled.

It was him then. The handsome one. Good. JW . . . Sherlock's mind went looking and found it: John Watson.

_I'm okay. How's your head? SH_

He pressed Send and then quickly sent another.

_I'm glad you texted. SH_

He ducked down and snuck back around the corner, trying to stay out of their view as he made his way back home.

John's stomach flipped wildly at the response, and he ignored Greg and Molly's smug looks. 

_Pounding, honestly. But I'm okay, too. -JW_

Sherlock was almost back at the flat before realising he was still gripping his phone in his hand. He read John's text.

_Good. SH_

He sent it even though it wasn't all he wanted to say. The problem was he wasn't sure what he should say.

_Still like kissing boys? SH_

He was pretty sure that wasn't what he should say but it was too late.

John flushed but couldn't help grinning. The three of them were walking back now, and John was trailing behind them. Pieces of their conversation started to come back to him but it was muddled.  

_Still just the one. I seem to have lost him. -JW_

_He's actually at mine right now. Would you like to see him again? SH_

_Yes I would. -JW_

_Say where and when, John Watson. SH_

_Anywhere. Maybe he can meet me for dinner? -JW_

_Yes, please. Should we meet at Angelo's at 7? SH_

_I thought I was meeting your handsome friend? Just kidding. See you then. -JW_

_How drunk were you? Will you recognise me? SH_

_Maybe. I remember curls. -JW_

_Correct. I trust you'll find me. SH_

Sherlock smiled at his phone. He got up and checked his email and did a little work before deciding to take an afternoon nap. He woke up, made a cup of tea and then got ready to go. He hoped he still liked John and John liked him -- he hoped it hadn't just been the alcohol that had brought them together.

_So I'm on my way. Listen, if I'm not what you remember just look out of the window when I come in and I'll turn and leave, okay? -JW_

John chose to walk to the restaurant so he could work off some of his nerves. When he saw it he waited outside for Sherlock's assurance. 

Sherlock had arrived early and got a booth near the back. He ordered a cup of tea and sat and waited. He did want to see John, even though he worried that John would find him much less interesting when they were sober.

_I remember what you look like. Come in. SH_


	3. A Sober Date

John bit his lip and walked into the restaurant and looked around. Curls. Who had -- oh. He looked at Sherlock and almost walked out again. He was so lovely and there was no way that John had kissed him. No way. But then he looked over and smiled and John almost fell over. He forced himself forward and sat down with him, staring in awe. "Um . . . hello," he said quietly. 

"Wow," Sherlock said. "You don't remember anything at all, do you?"

"You're . . .I'm sorry," he said quickly. "Just . . . just some things."

"The kissing?" Sherlock said. "Be honest."

John nodded. "I do, vaguely. Or maybe I can just picture it." He sighed and rubbed his temples. "I don't know what I remember and what I'm imagining." 

"Hmm . . . I worry knowing that I'm competing against your imagination," Sherlock said. "Look, here, let's meet properly, I mean, not drunk. I'm Sherlock Holmes." He smiled.

"You know my name," John smiled. "I'm -- to be honest I'm surprised we talked. Kissed even," he said, biting his lip. His eyes kept moving over Sherlock's face and hair, pausing on his lips. John could see how he went for them before -- that lovely shape just begged for kisses. He flushed and met his eyes again. 

"Why? Because I'm not a rugby boy?" Sherlock asked.

John furrowed his brows. "No . . .because you're gorgeous," he said, looking down at the table. He fumbled with his fork for a bit and looked up again. "If it hadn't been for the alcohol I don't think I'd have had the guts to talk to you, let alone kiss you."

"Don't say that," Sherlock said. "Besides I spoke to you first . . . I think." He reached over the table and touched John's hand. "Anyway, we're talking now, aren't we?"

Heat burst from where their skin touched and he remembered the kiss, the heat and intensity of it. He nodded. "Yes. On a proper date and everything," he smiled. 

"Yeah, you okay with that?" Sherlock said. "Have you had one before . . . with a guy, I mean?"

John shook his head. "I've never met a guy I liked enough to risk coming out," he admitted. "I mean . . . my friend knows now and he didn't care. I don't know why I was weird about it." 

"Yes, you were," Sherlock said. "But it's okay, I guess. I'm glad your friend's all right about it. By the way, how'd I do with the woman? Was I right?"

John smiled and nodded. "It appears they are dating -- properly, no one night stands with her," he said. 

"I quite love being right," Sherlock said. "I hope I'm right about you." He smiled and said, "What do you want to eat?"

"What do you hope to be right about?" John asked, pulling the menu closer to look. "Um . . . lasagna, I think," he mused. 

"I hope I'm right that we would be a good team," Sherlock said. "There must have been a reason why I talked to you last night. My instincts are good, even when I'm drunk." He looked up at the server to get his attention. "I'll have a small salad and he'll have some lasagna."

"That's all?" John asked. "I mean about the salad, not the other stuff. I think we'll be a good team too," he smiled. 

"I'm not a big eater -- especially the day after I had too much to drink," Sherlock said. "It's not an issue, I hope."

"No," John shook his head. "I don't mind what you eat," he smiled. "I think we spoke about condoms? I seem to remember that coming up a lot..."

"Wow, you're much more forward than I remember," Sherlock said. "Fine, yes, since you seem worried, I do have condoms, okay?" He laughed a little and looked at John.

"No! I didn't mean -- last night I thought, I'm just trying to remember what we talked about." John rambled and felt his cheeks heat. He took a deep breath and shook his head. "That's not what I meant."

"Just relax," Sherlock said, "I'm just teasing you." He took a sip of water and fiddled with the bread the server brought. "Relax, okay?"

"I am relaxed," he said, offering him a smile. "I'm trying to be relaxed. Sorry."

"Would it help you relax if I told you that I'm wearing women's underwear?"

John snorted a laugh and he slapped his hand over his mouth. "If you're being serious, I was not laughing at you. To each their own," he said, but he was still grinning. 

"Well, now you have something else to wonder about instead of worrying about why I like you," Sherlock said. "I mean, look, we don't know each other that well, but I've got a good feeling about you and I'd like to get to know you better." He looked down and said quietly, "And I do fancy you a bit."

John bit his lip and, slowly, reached out to touch Sherlock's hand this time. "I fancy you more than a bit, I think. But I would like to get to know you more, make a proper decision," he smiled. 

"All right then," Sherlock said. "I study chemistry, I have one brother, and I'm clever. That's pretty much me."

"I am going to medical school, I have a sister, and I'm . . . well, I play rugby," he grinned. "My head's been knocked around a bit."

"Is that your way of saying you're stupid?"

"No!" John said defensively. "I was being funny. Only smart people go to medical school, yeah?"

"Hey, John Watson," Sherlock said. "You're going to have to relax a bit more -- you may not remember but last night I made it pretty clear that I am not interested in idiots. And I've just told you I am interested in you. So . . . relax, yeah?"

"I am relaxed. And yes, now I remember having to yell at you for calling me an idiot!" He flicked Sherlock's hand and smiled. "That was for yesterday."

"All right," Sherlock said. "Let's just enjoy this evening. Do you have to be back at a certain time? We could go for a walk or something after we eat."

"I don't have to be back by a certain time," he said. "A walk sounds nice."

"Good, let's just be normal with each other, we don't have to think about last night," Sherlock said, even though he was thinking a bit about it, about kissing. But he tried to follow his own advice and steered the conversation to John's background instead before sharing a little about his.

John told Sherlock about his sister coming out so long ago, and then about her drinking and falling away from the family. Sherlock was easy to talk to and John continued sharing. He talked about wanting to join the army and how they would help him pay for medical school. He talked about rugby and how he'd been playing for years. He also enjoyed listening to Sherlock. His eyes lit up when he spoke about his studies, and he was funny when he was mocking his professors. He relaxed more and more by the second. More than once he glanced at Sherlock's lips as he spoke, hoping the night ended with another kiss -- one he wouldn't forget this time. 

"You're very funny," Sherlock said, "in a good way. I like that you're clever. I'm glad you sent those texts this morning. I wasn't sure if I'd hear from you or if you'd want to hear from me."  
  
"I was terrified," John admitted, though he didn't elaborate about what, exactly. "You remembered my full name -- would you have come looking for me?" 

"Well, I have to be honest -- I remembered your full name after I got your text with your initials," Sherlock admitted. "I probably would have remembered eventually. I have an excellent memory. But I did also drink a lot last night. I like a challenge so I would have found you eventually -- whether or not I would have contacted you, I don't know. You were . . . unsure last night and I wouldn't have wanted to make you feel uncomfortable."

John nodded. "I'm feeling more sure as we talk," he smiled. 

"Good," Sherlock said, smiling. "Was your food good? Where do you want to walk?"

"It was great," John nodded. "Hmm . . . we could go to the park or maybe just walk around campus?" 

"All right, let's walk around campus. Will you care if we see anyone you know?" Sherlock asked.

John shook his head. "No, I won't care," he smiled. "I know I was acting weird about it before, but my friend knows and he doesn't care. No one else matters. No one should have before but . . ." He trailed off and shrugged, realising he was rambling again. 

"John, it doesn't matter -- different people have different experiences and attitudes," Sherlock said. "I'm not hassling you. I promise. I probably will at some point, but it should be relatively clear when I do." He got out his wallet and picked up the bill.

"Oh, no let me," John said, taking his own wallet out as well. But he was a bit late and he put it away reluctantly. "I'll get it next time," he smiled. 

Sherlock smiled back. "That's a deal, John Watson." He stood up and motioned for the server to let him know they were leaving. He slipped on his coat and led John outside. As they started walking, he asked, "So have you had girlfriends then?"

John nodded. "Just a couple -- three, actually. You know, before uni and then in the first year. Have you had girlfriends? Or boyfriends?"

"I wouldn't really use either of those words -- I mean, I've been out with people, both men and women, but I have to be honest, John, I've never really been in a 'relationship'. I'm not sure if it's because I haven't wanted to or because they haven't wanted to, but I don't really have any experience in that business," Sherlock said.

"Oh," John nodded. He stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Well, you were very good on our date," he smiled. 

"Well, thank you," Sherlock said. "I can't tell if you're patronising me or not, but I've decided to take it as a compliment. Perhaps I just hadn't met the right person?" He glanced over at John and smiled.

John flushed lightly and smiled, looked down. "I suppose that's what we were both waiting for."

"That's a nice thought," Sherlock said. "Let's walk over by the science buildings." He led them to that quad and he pointed out an area where he would often go to smoke between classes. They sat down on a bench. "Is uni what you thought it would be? I mean, are you glad you came here?"

"Yeah," John nodded. "I've enjoyed it here. I had decent professors, I've met a lot of interesting people, I feel prepared for medical school. My family's not far from here so I didn't really have a choice but it's worked out well," he smiled. "Is it what you thought it's be?"

"Not really," Sherlock said. "I guess I don't really know what I was expecting." He stared out around the quad. "Anyway, it's been all right. I'm not like you, though -- I don't have any plans for what I'll do next."

"You're studying chemistry? Are you going to work in a lab or something?"

"Possibly, seems boring though," Sherlock said. "I don't know . . . I guess that's it, I don't know. I feel like I should."

"Well, you're smart. I'm sure you will figure something out," John said. "Just make sure it makes you happy. That's what matters."

"I don't know what makes me happy," Sherlock said. "I don't know if I've ever felt it . . . I'm a bit of a grump, I guess."

"Come on," John nudged him. "Something has to give you a rush?" he smiled. 

"I don't know," Sherlock said. "I . . . I don't know. Maybe I just haven't found it yet."

"Maybe," John said, putting his hands in his pockets. "That happens sometimes."

"I'm unusual," Sherlock said, even though he kind of wished he hadn't.

"You aren't!" John said, nudging his arm again but only with his elbow this time. 

Sherlock looked over at John. "No, I am," Sherlock said. "It's not boastful or humble, it's just true." He looked away again.

"I don't think you're unusual. You're different than anyone I've ever met, but everyone is different, yeah?" John shrugged and looked down. "I know that sounds stupid but you know what I mean . . ."

"I think you'll find not everyone is different, John. Many people are very much the same," Sherlock said knowingly. "I am unusual, but I'm not ashamed of it. You might be unusual, too."

"Maybe," John agreed. "We can be unusual together."

"I hope so," Sherlock said, reaching over and holding John's hand. "This okay?"

John nodded and curled his fingers around his hand, holding it back. "You have nice hands," he smiled lightly.

"Do I? They've served me well, I guess," Sherlock said turning their hands over to look at them. "Your hands are nice -- surgeon-like, I suppose." He smiled.

John smiled wider. "My hands are normal, wide with short fingers. You have long, slender fingers. It's sexy," he said shyly.

"Is that a medical opinion, then?" Sherlock said.

"Dr. Watson certified," John grinned.

Sherlock smiled at John. "You're really handsome, you know," he said. "I feel like kissing and I'm not even drunk."

John felt his cheeks warm and he glanced at Sherlock's lips for just a second, meeting his eyes again. Everything about him was so gorgeous. "I feel like kissing you, too. In fact, that's the best cure for having such lovely hands. And eyes. And lips," he added, getting quieter with each one.

"Do you want to go back to mine? It's just a little walk -- there's no pressure, but we could kiss there if you wanted to," Sherlock said.

John nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good," he smiled. He groped Sherlock's hand properly, lacing their fingers.


	4. Sex Talk

Sherlock walked them to his flat, but before he pushed the door open, he said, "Look, my flat's a bit messy, but it's got everything I need in it, so I'll just apologise in advance." He led John in and moved to the kitchen to clean two mugs and make some tea.

John walked in and looked around the place. There were papers everywhere -- newspapers and other pages from things John didn't recognise. There was an area with test tubes and beakers which made him smile. The whole place was exactly Sherlock. "It's nice," he said as he joined him in the kitchen. 

"It's not, but it's home," Sherlock said, handing John a cup of tea. "It's safe to drink. I'm messy but I'm clean." He smiled. "Don't you get sick of living with someone else? Do you live with a friend or did you just get stuck with someone?"

"I got stuck with someone but he's nice. He's going to medical school too and he mostly keeps to himself. It could be worse," John shrugged.

"You don't fancy him?" Sherlock said. "Never tempted to cuddle up with him?" He smiled and raised his eyebrows up and down.

"No," John wrinkled his nose. "Besides, he's not gay."

"Hmmm . . . so you only fancy gay guys?" Sherlock said.

"Well...I think some straight guys are attractive but I don't fancy them. Waste of time, isn't it?"

"So does that mean you thought I was gay when we were talking?" Sherlock asked.

"When we were snogging," John corrected. "I don't remember too much of the talking. Except condoms, like I said before."

Sherlock laughed. "Fair enough, the snogging was a bit of a give away maybe," he said. "I'm sorry, I'm being nosy. I'll quit asking so many questions."

"That's what a date is for, isn't it?" John smiled. "Tell me things about yourself now to make up for it."

"I don't know what to say," Sherlock said. "I don't really have a lot of friends and I live in a mess and I like to curse. That's me, I guess."

"I like your mess -- there's personality in it," John said. He looked around again. "Do you like living alone?"

"Yes, I do," Sherlock said. "I wasn't lying about not having friends . . . I know you think I'm lovely and all, but I'm not great with other people."

"Well, technically you could rent rooms to strangers," John pointed out. "But I can see why you would enjoy your own place. You can properly do whatever you want," he smiled. 

"Yes, I occasionally blow things up and sometimes walk around nude," Sherlock said. "But usually not both in the same day."

John chuckled and finished his tea. "Yes, I suppose no roommates is best for you."

"Maybe that'll change one day," Sherlock said. "We'll see." He set his cup down. "What do you want to do -- watch television or something? I've got to be honest, I don't know what people do on dates."

"Well, we technically already had the date," he said. "Watching telly sounds good, but I believe I was promised kisses and I would like to collect at some point before I leave." 

"Good," Sherlock said, "That's what I was hoping for as well, but I didn't want to pressure you." He scooted a little closer and took John's hands in his own. He leaned forward and kissed John softly on the mouth. "There you go, then."

"Well, that should hold me over until our next date," John said. "I think I'll be off now." He made to get up but was slow about it. 

"Really?" Sherlock said. "Please don't go."

John smiled and sat back again. "I was teasing," he assured him. "I don't want to go yet."

Sherlock put his arm around that back of the sofa around John. He looked over at him and smiled softly before reaching in and kissing him again.

John kissed him back for a moment before pulling away to shift on the couch, turning his body more towards Sherlock and putting his hand on his neck. "Kissing you sober is much nicer," he murmured before closing the space between them and kissing him again. 

"How do you know?" Sherlock said, smiling. "You don't even remember last night's kissing." He leaned in and kissed John again, sliding his hands around John's body.

"Bits and pieces," John said between kisses, looping his arms around Sherlock's neck now so he could keep him close. 

Sherlock moved to John's cheek, putting kisses across it before sucking gently on his ear. "This is definitely nice," he said softly as he shifted his body to press against John.

John tilted his head a bit and laced his fingers into Sherlock's hair. John started to warm and he arched into Sherlock for more. He remembered this feeling from the night before despite his drunkenness. Something about Sherlock made him feel so intense, and he didn't know how to explain it.

Sherlock pressed into John and then said, "Can we lie down a little bit?" and he shifted to try to get them to lie side by side.

John followed his leading hands easily, gazing at him. "Okay. But I don't have condoms with me," he teased, smiling before kissing Sherlock again. 

"I do," Sherlock said, "but we're just kissing and you don't need condoms for that, Doctor." He leaned in again and kissed a little harder, running his hands down John's sides.

John turned his head to deepen the kiss, pushing into his hands and gripping Sherlock's sides, sliding down to his hips. He massaged the bones, sliding to his lower back to hold him close. 

Sherlock could feel heat rising in his belly and he pressed even closer. He moved his mouth to his neck and sucked hard. "You taste nice," he said into John's skin. 

John smiled. "You're not a cannibalistic murderer, are you?" he teased, tilting his head back for him and lacing his fingers into Sherlock's hair.  

"I'm sorry," Sherlock said, pulling back a little. "It's just . . . you're very sexy." He moved up and looked John in the eye before kissing him again.

"This is . . . I don't know why I'm joking. I'm nervous. You're very sexy and I feel . . . that was a silly thing to say and I --" He broke off and looked into Sherlock's eyes again. "Sorry. Maybe we should kiss again so I'll stop embarrassing myself."

"Don't be nervous, John," Sherlock said. "I heard you when you told me this was new to you and I hope you heard me when I said relationships were new to me. I'm not quite sure what's going to happen with this, but as long as we just keep listening, we'll be okay, yeah?" He smiled and kissed him again.

"I remember," he nodded. He tried to convince himself that Sherlock was just as nervous and he focused on the kiss, letting himself get lost in it. 

Sherlock lifted one hand to John's hair, running his fingers through it as they kissed. When it ended, he let his hand move across John's face, lightly touching the skin as he examined it, memorising it. "You are more handsome than you think you are," he said softly.

John flushed, heating under his fingers. John turned into his hand, kissing his fingers. "I'm very glad I met you, Sherlock."

"I'm glad we met as well," Sherlock said. "I certainly didn't think I'd meet someone like you at that party. I don't know what it is . . . but you're unusual, in a good way." 

John smiled up at him. "Now we can be unusual together," he teased.  

"Perhaps," he sat up a little. "I think maybe we should stop kissing a little. It's getting a bit . . . I'm just worried it'll be difficult for me to stop if we keep going. Maybe we should stop for now."

"Oh, okay," John nodded. He shifted to sit up and smiled at him. "That's sensible. I don't think I could have stopped either. I mean I could have but . . . well, I wouldn't have wanted to," he admitted. 

"What do you mean? You mean, you think you would have wanted to have sex?" Sherlock asked as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"I don't know. Maybe not like . . . the whole thing . . ." He flushed with the silly words he was using. 

"Well, I think this might be something we need to talk about," Sherlock said, sitting up properly know. "I quite like investigating -- let's investigate. First off, I can tell you're not entirely comfortable talking about this. That's fine, I'll do the talking, you can nod or shake your head -- though, of course, you can say whatever you want to say. Is it all right if we talk about this?"

"Yes," John nodded. "I just meant there's other things we could do besides . . . going all the way," he said, still embarrassed he sounded like a child talking about this. "I think it's good we stopped because I was afraid of . . . you know," he mumbled.  

"Have you ever come when another person was there?" Sherlock said.

John met his eyes and shook his head. "The girls I've been with . . . well, it never really got that far."

"I don't need specifics," Sherlock said. "Unless you feel it's necessary. All right, then, what about blow jobs? I'm guessing you've never given one -- have you had one?"

"Yes," John nodded. "I tried to do it once . . . I mean, on a toy I bought, but I never really used it." He looked down and wrung his fingers.

"A toy?" Sherlock said, slightly suspicious. "Interesting . . . I was not expecting that." He smiled widely at John. "Did you like getting one? Do you think one day you might be interested in giving one . . . or does that not appeal?"

"Don't laugh at me,” John grumbled. "I told you, I've been working through this for a while." He looked up again and nodded. "I did like getting one and I would give one. I'm more comfortable with this now. I want to do everything eventually, with someone I'm comfortable with."

Sherlock smiled. "Well, if it turns out that person is me, I'd be grateful. I'd like to do things with you but never anything we weren't both sure about."

John nodded. "Maybe it is you . . . but I don't know if it's because everything is new and exciting, you know?"

"Well, first of all, sex stuff is supposed to be exciting, you know. If you're waiting around to be with someone you find boring, I think your plan may have some flaws in it," Sherlock said, smiling. "Also, if you've never done these things, it's also going to be new, correct? But the main thing is that you don't have to decide anything at this moment. You don't even have to decide everything in one go. Perhaps one day we might do one thing, but that doesn't mean that we definitely have to do other things. Just . . . don't worry. Anything we do -- I just want you to feel comfortable and enjoy it without having to be so drunk you forget about it the next day."

"You know what I mean about new and exciting. You're like a drug," John sighed, looking up at him again. "Kissing you I feel like . . . like I want to do everything right now. That's crazy, right?" 

"I'm not sure it's crazy, but it is . . . enthusiastic," he said, laughing a little. "Look, don't get uptight about my asking, but do you have a substance abuse problem? I'm not judging -- it's just last night you were very drunk and didn't even care about Graham seeing us kiss and now you're making drug references. Is this an issue of yours?"

"No," John shook his head. "I'm sorry. No. I just . . . I never felt anything like this before and I am just trying to figure it all out before I say or do something stupid." John wanted to go back to the kissing when things were easy and not so heavy.  

"Look, I don't think anything you say is stupid and I never . . . well rarely do stupid things, so you don't have to worry about that. I like you, John Watson, just be yourself. I think that covers my initial questions, I feel like I've got a better sense of what's going on here," Sherlock said, pulling John to lean against him. "Let's see what's on the telly." Sherlock flipped through the channels until he got to the news and then he set the remote down. He put one arm around John and fiddled with his hair a bit. 

John sat there awkwardly for a moment, but as the minutes passed he relaxed and settled against Sherlock, draping an arm over his stomach and watching the news with him. He felt bad for freaking out a bit, but he hadn't lied. If they hadn't stopped he'd have gladly gone to bed with Sherlock and that scared him. He never felt so sure about anything before or about anyone. And they had only known each other for a day. 

Sherlock shifted their position a little so he was leaning more against the arm of the sofa, with John leaning against him. He moved his hand from John's hair to his arm, which he stroked softly. "What are your plans for the rest of the weekend?" he asked.

"Just have some homework to do," he said. He closed his enjoyed this moment. "You?" 

"Not much really," Sherlock said. "Do you want anything? A drink, snack or anything?"

He shook his head. "I'm okay for now. Were you going to be doing one of those experiments where you blow things up?" 

"Probably not," Sherlock said. "But I might need to do some walking around in the nude," he added, smiling.

"Hmm. Too bad I have homework," he sighed. 

"I could help if you wanted," Sherlock said. "Or you could do it over here, if you wanted to."

"You think I'll be able to focus on writing an essay with you strolling around naked?" John chuckled. 

"Well, there's one way to find out," Sherlock said, chuckling a little. He leaned over and kissed John on the mouth. 

John shifted and kissed him back, resting his forehead on Sherlock's. "We could try it -- I don't mind coming back over."

"Good," Sherlock said. "Are you going back to yours this evening?"

John opened his eyes and met Sherlock's. "You ask things like that and make me want to do crazy things again," he murmured. He kissed his mouth for a moment. "I know that I should but honestly . . . it's the last thing I want to do," he admitted. 

"Well, you don't need to decide right now," Sherlock said. "If you decide to go later, I'll get you a cab. Let's kiss a bit more." He shifted a bit so they were lying down again. He put his arms around John and squeezed him tightly.

"If you insist," he smiled, pushing his neck up to kiss Sherlock, lacing his fingers into his hair. 

Sherlock gave John a long, slow kiss, slipping his tongue into John's mouth. He let out a small hum as his hands moved up John's back.

John followed his lead, bringing his own tongue out to slide against Sherlock's, his hands sliding along his ribs, fingers curled tightly.

Sherlock pressed harder into the kiss, not rough but almost hungry. His hands moved to John's hair and he held his head and his mouth moved against John's.

John felt Sherlock's intensity as if he'd passed it along -- his whole body warmed as he matched Sherlock's fervor. Before he could think about is his hands slid to the hem of Sherlock's shirt, slipping his fingers up and touching his skin.

Sherlock mimicked John's movements, pulling on John's shirt and slipping his hands to John's bare back. His skin was warm and Sherlock could feel his face flush. "John," he said softly for no real reason.

John almost moved his hands back but decided to wait just a bit longer for a proper protest. He pushed his hands up, Sherlock's shirt bunching around his wrists as he touched Sherlock's bare back and sides. 

"Do you want to go lie down on my bed? Nothing has to change, we can do exactly what we're doing -- but admit it, it'd be a bit more comfortable," Sherlock said. 

John nodded. "That sounds like it would be more comfortable," he murmured, kissing him once more before moving to sit up. 

Sherlock stood and led John into his room. "It's messy in here as well," he said and he unbuttoned his shirt and threw it on the ground. He lay down on the bed. "Come on," he said.

"Oh," John hummed as he watched Sherlock's shirt pile onto the floor. When he climbed up on the bed he toyed with his own shirt before pulling it over his head as well and dropping it beside him. 

"Don't do anything you don't want to," Sherlock said, sliding over against him. The feel of their bare chests against each other sent an electricity through him. He slid his hands up and down John's back again as he kissed his neck.

"I know," John said, lacing his fingers into Sherlock's hair with a small sigh. "I'm not drunk this time so don't worry," he smiled. 

"All right, I won't worry," Sherlock said. He went back to kissing, pulling John towards him with a hand on his hip.

John moved with him, twisting his head to deepen the kiss as their bodies came together. His hands resumed shamelessly touching his exposed torso. 

"You feel good," Sherlock said. He moved his mouth down, kissing and sucking on John's neck and then licked across his collarbone.

"You too . . . I can't get enough," he smiled, his hand moving down to Sherlock's waist and holding for a second before curving around to his lower back, holding him close. 

Sherlock moved lower and flicked his tongue across one of John's nipples. "Is this okay?" he said. He kept his hands on John's hips.

John nodded and he let out a long breath. "Feels good," he murmured. 

Sherlock kept moving across John's chest, kissing and licking. Then he pressed his cheek against his skin and just held him for a little while.

John stroked his hair, turning a bit to face him. "Want to cuddle for a bit again?" he asked softly. 

"Yes," Sherlock said. He pressed again John and moved his hands to his back. "You smell nice as well," he said.

"I think you've used every sense on me," he smiled. "I feel like I'm falling behind," he teased.

"I probably don't taste and smell as nice as you do," Sherlock said. He snuggled up a little so their faces were close together again.

"I doubt that," John said. "You look simply delicious," he grinned. 

"Well, you've kissed me. I taste like cigarettes, don't I, which I'm guessing you don't like," Sherlock said, smiling. "Be honest."

"I don't like cigarettes but you must have been good today because I didn't taste them too much. Your skin tasted sweet, and you smell good -- I like it. I've touched and looked . . . only my ears haven't added anything. Which, now that I think about it, your voice is pretty sexy. I can't wait to hear it moaning," he admitted before he could chicken out. 

"John Watson," Sherlock said, laughing. "You're cute as well as sexy." He cuddled him again.

"Looks like we have even more in common, then," he smiled. "Unless you got drunk again when I wasn't watching."

"No, in all honesty, I don't really drink that often. I guess it's just something to do at those parties since I'm usually pretty uncomfortable. But I'm comfortable now," he said, snuggling in again. "Are you comfortable? Do you want to sleep here? I'd like you to stay if you want to."

"I would like to sleep here but . . . it's not so comfortable in jeans. Could I borrow pajamas unless you don't mind me just taking them off?"

Sherlock got up and grabbed some clean pajamas out of the drawer. He tossed some to John and said, "The bathroom's over there if you need it."

John nodded and took them into the bathroom. He brushed his teeth with his finger to freshen his mouth a bit and then put on Sherlock's pajama bottoms, leaving his shirt off as he came back out. He folded his jeans on the chair and then climbed back into bed. "Thanks."

While John was in the bathroom, Sherlock slipped into his pajamas. "I'll be back in a minute," he said as he nipped to the bathroom. He brought two glasses of water when he came back. "Here," he said, "in case you want a drink." Sherlock slipped back into bed. "Should I set my alarm or anything? Are you planning to sleep all day?" He slid down a little and turned to face John. 

"Probably not all day," he said. "But I don't want to be woken up, you know? I get enough of that for school. I will go home when I get up, though -- take a shower, actually try and do some homework. I can come back again, if you're free."

"Well, I don't usually sleep too late, so I think we'll be okay. It'd be great if you want to come back in the evening, we could order some dinner or something and just relax before class on Monday. Or if you need any help with your work, I'd be happy to help if I could," he said. He turned off the lights and rolled over to go to sleep, but after a minute or so, he turned back and said, "Look, this feels kind of weird -- I don't know . . . like you're my brother or we're having a sleep over or something." He slipped his arms around John again and slid closer to him. He pressed his mouth against his neck and kissed him again. "Let's kiss until we're so tired we can't even keep our eyes open," he said softly.

John shifted to get comfortable but then found himself being tugged towards Sherlock, so he complied to move with him and got comfortable against him. John smiled and tilted his head to catch his lips in a kiss. "That sounds better than a bedtime story," he murmured before closing the space again. 

Sherlock moved to kiss John's mouth as his hand moved up his back. It felt good to touch John's skin, and Sherlock was glad to have him next to him in his bed, a thought that surprised him a bit.

John kissed him gladly, wrapping his arm around Sherlock's waist and rubbing his back. Kissing Sherlock was only making him feel better, moving him farther away from being sleepy, but he controlled himself and kept the kiss slow and soft.

"It's weird -- in a good way -- kissing you," Sherlock said. "I just feel so . . . comfortable, I'm not really used to feeling like this, let alone feeling it around someone else." He gave John a quick kiss. "I hope that's okay to say."

John nodded. "You can always tell me how you feel," he said. "I feel different with you, too, Sherlock. I don't know how to explain it."

"Me neither, John," Sherlock said. He pressed his head against John's chest. "Whatever it is, I hope that it's good for us."

"I know it will be -- it already feels good, doesn't it?" John mused, petting his hair.

"It does," Sherlock said. "But it's weird." He looked up at John and smiled. "In a good way," he added before kissing him again. 

John smiled into the kiss, chuckling softly. "Don't worry so much, okay? We're going to be fine -- there's a first time for everything. We just have to embrace it," he grinned. 

"Oh listen to you, Mr Expert," Sherlock said. "All right then, John Watson, I'll trust you." He realised that as he said it, he meant it -- he did trust him even though he didn't know why.

"You don't have to be an expert to recognise a good thing!" John laughed softly. "I just know not to question good things. Just accept them -- there's enough trouble out there already without worrying in here, too. Hey," he added suddenly. "When did 'kissing until we fall asleep' turn into 'debate uselessly' until we fall asleep?" 

"I can't help it -- useless debate turns me on," Sherlock said, pinching John's backside softly. "Shut your face and kiss me a bit." He lay back flat on the bed and opened his arms up. 

"Excuse me, but I thought we were doing the opposite of turn ons so we can sleep --" He cut off with a dramatic gasp. "That's why you want me to kiss you--bore you right to sleep, don't I?" John grinned, pressing his mouth to Sherlock's and he shuffled into his arms. 

"Um . . . if you're not going to uselessly debate me, do you mind if we go for more kissing and less talking," Sherlock said. He smiled when John leaned in for a kiss. "You are not boring in the slightest, John Watson," he said and slid his hands to John's lower back.

"Oh sure . . . you only want to use these lovely lips--" He paused to pucker and kiss the air a couple times. "-- to get me to put you to sleep!" 

"My lips are not lovely," Sherlock said. "Just kiss them and stop talking about them." He moved his hands to John's head and held it so he could lean up and kiss him.

John turned just enough for Sherlock to catch the corner or his mouth. Then his cheek, and then the other corner. He chuckled and finally crashed their lips together, kissing him properly.  

Sherlock held John close for the kiss. This was good. Then he wiggled a little so John was at his side again. He slid his hand around him and cuddled against him. "If you need anything in the night, just wake me up," he said, nestling in.

"Even if I want to snoop through and steal your stuff?" he teased quietly, holding him close and settling in comfortably. 

"I don't think you'd do that," Sherlock said. "Would you? Because that would change things…"

"Teasing," he assured him. "Sorry. I'll try and be more serious."

"You don't have to be serious," Sherlock said, "but don't joke about trust stuff. I've got issues, I guess." He squeezed him a bit.

"I'm sorry," John said. "I won't joke about that again. I didn't know." He kissed Sherlock's head and rubbed his shoulder.

Sherlock shushed John. He let John rub his shoulders. "That feels good," Sherlock said. "I'll be glad not to wake up hungover tomorrow."

"You and me both," he smiled, his hand always moving.

"Thanks for staying," Sherlock said. He closed his eyes and tried to relax for sleep as he pressed against John. 

"Of course," John murmured. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. Every breath was filled with Sherlock and he fell asleep quickly. His mind played fuzzy dreams that skipped in and out as he slept deeply.


	5. The Next Day

Sherlock woke a few times in the night and was glad to see John was still there. When he woke for good in the morning, he watched John sleep for a little while before slipping out of the bed and making some tea. He brought two mugs back into the bedroom and sat one on John's side of the bed. He got back in and held his mug, waiting for John to wake up.

John felt the movement on the bed as he was waking up, stretching and yawning. "Morning," he said quietly, shifting to sit up and smiling over at him. 

"Good morning," Sherlock said, taking a sip of tea. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did. Your bed is very comfortable," he smiled. He sat up and took his own tea in hand, sipping at it. "Did you sleep okay?"

"I did," Sherlock said. "I wasn't sure if I would -- it's different having someone here, but it was a pretty good sleep. And I definitely feel better this morning than I did yesterday morning." 

"I'm glad," he smiled. "Are you always going to wake me up with tea?" John teased, taking another drink. 

"Unlikely," Sherlock said. "Enjoy it while it lasts." He smiled. "Are were going to go get some breakfast before you go?"

"Okay," John agreed. "Would you like me to make it and bring it to you in bed so we can be even?" 

"No, it's too fussy," Sherlock said. "I'll walk you home and we can stop at the little cafe at the corner." He lifted his hand and touched John's arm. "You're handsome in the morning. Your hair's gone a bit messy, but I like it."

John reached up to smooth it down instinctively. He leaned over and kissed Sherlock's cheek. "You always say such sweet things," he smiled. "I can definitely get used to that."  

"Yes, it's pretty amazing how sweet I can be," Sherlock said. "I mean that, because I'm not usually sweet. Again, you probably don't want to get used to that either." He pulled a face at John.

"Well then," John sighed in mock exasperation. "Is there anything I can get used to?" 

"It's hard to say, I've never done this before," Sherlock said honestly. "This is all an unknown for me, John." He looked him in the eye. "Hopefully, you can get used to the kissing, though, because I'm thinking that I quite enjoy that." 

"I'm used to it and I expect it already," John grinned. "I'm looking forward to getting to know all sorts of things about you."

Sherlock leaned up and gave John a kiss on his arm. "We should get up soon," he said. "I want you to get all your work done -- I don't want to start off by messing up your work." He stood up and stretched a bit. "Are you going to shower?"

"Back at my room," John said, standing up and moving to get his jeans. "I'll start my essay and then I'll text you when I'm on my way back over. Sound good?"

"All right, I'll clean myself up while you're gone," Sherlock said. He grabbed his phone and they headed out.  
  
They walked to the cafe and Sherlock got some tea and toast. "What do you want? Their breakfasts are good, but I'm just not too hungry."

"Hmm . . ." John ordered an omelet and toast, insisting that he treat this time. "Do you want me to bring dinner over or do you want to go out for it later?"

"Why don't you pick something up on the way over? Chinese maybe? Fried rice is good for me," Sherlock said. "What work will you be doing today?"

"Okay," John agreed. "I have to write a fifteen page paper on red blood cell deformities and how they affect the body."

"Is that the kind of thing that you find interesting?"

John nodded. "Doctor, remember?" He smiled and thanked the server as she put his food down. "The length is a bit annoying -- I'm not much of a writer," he said. 

"I'm glad you're doing something you're interested in," Sherlock said. "I doubt you'll find everything I do all that interesting." Sherlock finished up his food. "I think I'll head off now, I want to stop and get the papers. I'll hear from you later, yeah?"

"Oh," John said caught off guard, looking down at the food he just got. "Don't you want to finish breakfast with me? Well, I'll be seeing you soon so it's okay," he smiled. "I'll text you later."

"Sorry, I thought you were almost done," Sherlock said. "I don't want to be rude." He leaned forward and exaggeratedly watched John finishing eating. "I'm teasing," he said.

John laughed and shoved his arm. "Go get your stupid papers, I will see you later," he said. "Go on!" 

"All right then," Sherlock said. "I'll see you later on." He gripped John's arm a little as a means of saying goodbye, and then walked off to the shops to pick up the papers and then walked back to the flat. But before reading them, he tidied up and swapped the sheets on the bed. Then he got into the shower and prepared his things for class tomorrow. Then he finally sat down with a cup of tea and the papers to read.

John waved and finished his breakfast, leaving the payment on the table and walking back to his room. He got into the shower first and then spent too much time picking out something to wear. He lay his clothes on the bed and roamed around in his towel, not wanting to mess them up before he left. He sat down at the desk and started his essay, his mind slipping back to Sherlock and going over there later. 

_I can hardly concentrate and you're not even here. -JW_

_Do your work, Doctor Watson. SH_

_I'm multitasking. I'm two pages in! -JW_

_You're almost there. SH_

Sherlock smiled imagining John at work. He got up and went into the kitchen, deciding to wash all his dishes so he knew they'd be clean for John _._

John grinned but continued working, wanting to get this done so he could get back over to Sherlock's. 

Sherlock didn't want to distract John, so he decided not to text anymore but he did keep his phone next to him for the rest of the afternoon. He napped for a little and answered some emails, including an annoying one from his brother. He waited to hear back from John.

When John only had five pages left he saved everything and stood to get ready, calling in their dinner order while he got dressed. Greg stopped by to see if they wanted to go out with him and Molly but he shook his head, telling him he was going to Sherlock's again. 

"Again, huh? Look at you," he grinned. 

"Shut up. Don't you have date or something?" he asked, pushing Greg out of his room. Greg merely laughed and he went down the hall, throwing John a condom. John pulled a face and shut his door hard. He stuffed it into his pocket anyways and tried not to think about it. He left and took a cab to the restaurant and then the same one to Sherlock's. 

_I forgot to tell you I was on my way and now I'm outside. -JW_

For some reason, John's text gave Sherlock a little panic for a minute but then he realised that was stupid, and he went down to unlock the door for John.  
  
"Did you get all your work done?" he said, taking the food from him and carrying it to the kitchen to put out on the clean plates.

"I did. Well, I have five pages left," he said as he followed Sherlock.

"Good," Sherlock said. "I'm extremely glad you're here." He moved over and gave him his a quick kiss and then felt a little stupid, so he went back to sorting the food and led John into the sitting room to eat.

John grinned at him, watching him fondly. "Greg and Molly are going out again tonight. You made him happy, even without a quick shag," he mused. 

"I'm glad," Sherlock said. "Are you going to want us to go out on a double date with them?"

"Greg asked but I'm still feeling a bit selfish," John admitted. "I don't want to share you yet."

"Hmm . . . I don't know about double dating. I'm still a little worried about just regular dating," Sherlock said. "I just don't want to do anything wrong." He was surprised he was being that honest, but it was how he felt.

"It would be something simple, like dinner, but like I said I want you all to myself," John smiled. "Besides, they are probably going to be all . . . mushy and romantic." 

"And you don't go in for the romantic stuff?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, yeah. But not out in front of everyone," he said. 

Sherlock said, "What kind of stuff do you like? What kind of stuff would like me to do then?"

"Well . . . I don't know. I misspoke. It all sounds mushy when you say it -- kissing, hold hands, cuddling -- all of that stuff, but it doesn't mean I don't want to do it." 

"Are you going to sleep here tonight?" Sherlock said, realising that it was probably a bit awkwardly said.

John met his gaze, his cheeks slightly warm. "I would like to," he nodded. 

"Good, I'd like you to," Sherlock said, also blushing a bit. "I'm sorry -- that wasn't very romantic."

John shrugged and smiled. "I thought it was perfect -- no awkward beating around the bush. You know what you want and you go get it," he said, nudging Sherlock's arm. "Sorry I'm rambling again. Let's eat."

Sherlock took a bite of food. "Thanks for bringing this," Sherlock said. "Are you sure you don't want me to give you some money? What do you want to drink? I can get you something."

"Just some water is fine," he smiled. "Or a beer? Just one, though."

"I think I've got some," Sherlock said, finding one in the fridge and handing it to John. He sat down and continued to eat. "What time's your first class? Maybe we could watch a film or something."

"I don't go in until one. I'll have time to finish my paper beforehand even if we have a bit of a lie in," he smiled. "What time is your first class?"

"I've got class at one as well. I've got a television in the bedroom, I mean, we could watch the film in bed if you want, just so it's more comfortable, I mean," Sherlock said, laughing at himself. "God, I am so bad at this."

John leaned over and kissed his mouth, soft and smiling. "If you don't mind food in your bed, we can watch the film there. It would be more comfortable than the sofa," he agreed. 

"Let's finish eating out here," Sherlock said. "I don't want to seem too sex mad that we get into bed the minute you get here. Let's at least pretend we're civilised people." He smiled.

John chuckled. "Okay," he agreed, digging into his meal happily. 

After they finished eating, Sherlock carried their plates into the kitchen and washed them up quickly, even though he never did that immediately. He put the kettle on and then brought two cups of tea back with him.

"Okay, be honest with me -- do you want to do more work before we . . . watch a film? I can sit quietly if you want to finish off your paper," Sherlock said, taking a sip of tea. "It's really important to me that you don't . . . change your life in a bad way just because you've met me."

John put down his half finished meal. "If I finish the paper now, I can have a longer lie in with you and I won't even have to go to my room before class tomorrow," he mused. "I can feel that it's important to you that I finish it before the film so I will," he agreed. He pulled out his laptop. 

"I don't mean to be bossy or anything, it's just -- I could have easily wasted the whole day just sitting around waiting for you to come back -- but I don't want us to be like that. I want us to be . . . good for each other, not just 'new and exciting' like you said last night."

"I didn't mean that as a bad thing," John smiled. "And I don't think you're being bossy. I should have finished it completely before I came over--I am going to try and be better so that I can be good for you, too." John smiled and got to work.

"I know, I remember what you meant, but do you know what I mean? Anyway, I don't mean we have to be all serious -- I just want everything to be okay," Sherlock said. He got up and found a book to read, fussing John's hair as he walked past.

John finished his food and threw himself into the essay. He slouched and changed his position to get comfortable, the last few pages being the hardest. That was where he started slipping into thinking about Sherlock and what they could be doing instead. "Which film did you pick?" he asked when he had two pages to go.   

"I'll tell you when you're finished," Sherlock said. "How about I make us one more cup of tea and by the time it's gone, you'll be finished and we can make some popcorn and go watch a film in bed?" He stood up and stretched and moved to the kitchen. 

John sighed like a child and got back to work. He smiled when he got his cup of tea, sipping lightly as he continued typing. He wished he could type faster. "Can I have a hint about the film?" he asked, keeping his fingers moving and his eyes on the screen. 

"It's porn," Sherlock said, not looking up from his book.

John couldn't help looking up then but just as quickly looked back down again, grinning. "Oh, lovely. Any specific kind?" he asked, typing away. "Or is that what I'm supposed to guess?"

"It's a 'taster' DVD -- you know, lots of different things going on. I'll hook you up to a biofeedback machine and measure your responses to each scene, that way I'll know what to do to please you," Sherlock said. "I presume that's how people in relationships do things."

John bit his lip as he typed away. "Oh, excellent. I haven't been on a biofeedback machine in ages," he said seriously. "I hope you know how to use it properly."

Sherlock liked this challenge. "Oh yes," he said. "However, we'll probably need to shave your pubic hair so that the sensors attach properly."

"Oh! Sounds like you have the good machine! Most people try and get by with the cheap stuff. Does yours have the probe as well?" John only had one page left -- his conclusion -- and this back and forth was making things easier. Or more fun at least. 

Sherlock smiled behind his book. "Yes, but it's a little on the fritz, I think, because it seems to vibrate quite a bit. I hope that won't be a problem."

"I'm sure I'll be okay," John assured him. He saved his paper and closed the computer, grinning. 

"Finished for real?" Sherlock said, "Don't lie, you little pervert you."

John laughed loudly. "I'm not lying! You can check it if you want to!"

"All right, I believe you," Sherlock said. "Well, do you need the bathroom to shave then or do you want me to do it in the bathroom?"

"You can, that way I can judge your handling skills," he smiled. "I don't let just any maniac touch it."

"Are you planning on letting me touch it?" Sherlock said, raising an eyebrow.

"Sure," John grinned, surprised by his own daring.

"With my mouth?" Sherlock said, watching John closely for a real reaction.

John felt his cheeks flush lightly but he nodded anyways.

"John Watson," Sherlock said solidly. "Let's go to bed now."


	6. Another Sleepover

Sherlock got two glasses of water and handed them to John to carry in. He turned off the lights and led John into the bedroom. "Do you want to wear the pajamas from last night?" he asked. He started to unbutton his shirt.

"Will I need them?" he asked quietly, pulling off his own shirt.

"It's up to you. I think I'll put mine on for now, in case we need anything from the kitchen or anything," Sherlock said. "Here," he threw the pajamas over to John. He turned around and slipped off his trousers and pants and put his own pajama bottoms on. He sat down on the bed and took off his socks and then pulled his legs up underneath him, sitting cross-legged. "Should I put a film on then?"

"Yes," John agreed as he slipped Sherlock's pajamas on. He was shorter than Sherlock so they hung comically long. He smiled and climbed into bed. "Can you tell me what the film is now?"

"Yes," Sherlock said. "It's not really porn, as I'm sure you probably guessed. And you're probably not even going to like it, but it's **[one of my favourites](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QmgPw34Xm3A)**. I first saw it when I was quite young and I remember that I was quite pleased with myself when I figured the mystery out. Plus it's got Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn and both of them are lovely to look it." He handed the box to John. "So should we give it a try? I promise I won't judge you if you don't figure it out as fast as I did. That's kind of the point of the movie really, to keep people guessing."

"But I just finished homework and now I have to do more work?" John whined playfully. "I'm teasing, go ahead and play it."

"I'm teasing," Sherlock said. "I promise it won't be like working. Here," he said, shifting himself a bit behind John. "I'll rub your shoulders while we watch since you have been working," he coughed a little, "so hard."

"How nice of you," John grinned. He moved into a better position and rolled his shoulders a bit.

Sherlock reached back and turned off the lamp. He hit play and as the film started, he began to massage the tops of John's shoulders first. He didn't want to distract him too much, so he kept the strokes focused and began watching the film as he rubbed.

John closed his eyes and then remembered the movie, opening them again to watch. His hands felt very good and he rolled his shoulders again happily. "You're very good," he smiled.  
  
"Obviously," Sherlock said, lightly, "but don't get too distracted." He kept rubbing for a bit longer and then slide a little to the side and snuggled down a bit so he was leaning back on his pillow. He lifted his knees up. He could tell it was now dark outside and the room seemed even darker with no light except from the television.

John glanced behind him and patted Sherlock's knees. "Can I cuddle with you?" he asked, making to lay back on him.

"Of course," Sherlock said, opening his arms a bit. He pulled John close, wiggling so they both cold get comfortable and watch the television.

John could feel Sherlock's heart beating against the back of his head as he settled back. Half way through the movie he wanted to kiss Sherlock's neck, but as he turned his head into it he realised it might be rude since he was supposed to be paying attention. Having committed to the turn he pressed a kiss in the hollow of his jaw, just under his ear, and then went back to the film.

Sherlock kissed the top of John's head. He stroked John's arm softly and shifted his leg to press against John's.

"The film's good," John mumbled, glancing at Sherlock's moving hands with a smile.

"I can't tell if you're really enjoying it, but I do appreciate your watching it," Sherlock said. Once it was over, he slid down a little and turned on his side. "You can pick the film next time," he said.

"I really did like it," he assured him, sliding down to lay like Sherlock was. "I don't think you'll like my movies," he smiled.

"Maybe," Sherlock said. "We'll see. So what do you want to do now?" He stroked John's arm again.

"Kiss your neck properly," John said. He scooted a bit closer and buried his face into Sherlock's neck before pressing light kisses downwards.

Sherlock lifted his chin. "All right then," he said softly, "If you insist." He lifted his hand to John's shoulder and rubbed a little.

John nodded and stretched his neck to press the kisses harder, moving down to the nape of his neck and then slowly back up to the hollow under his ear. For the moment he kept his hands to himself. 

Sherlock hummed a "feels good" as he let his body relax and lean back into the bed a little. He just held John's shoulders now, feeling the pressure of John's mouth and the warmth of his breath on his skin.

John scoot closer as Sherlock moved, placing his hand on Sherlock's chest now for balance. His fingers opened and closed slowly, caressing the spot it was resting on. 

"I'm glad you're here," Sherlock said softly. "It's so odd that we didn't know each other a few days ago. I feel like I've always known you -- even though that makes no logical sense."

John smiled against his neck and came up to his face, so close their lips brushed as he spoke. "I feel the same way -- I almost don't remember the days before you," he admitted. He kissed Sherlock and then pulled back to look at him. 

Sherlock looked at John and smiled softly. He lifted a hand to the back of his head and pulled him back for another kiss.

John smiled into the kiss, sliding his hand to Sherlock's neck and stroking his jaw as he tilted his head to deepen it. 

Sherlock pressed into the kiss and then dropped back. "Your mouth is soft," he said and then flushed a little at the comment's silliness. "Well, it is," he added as if defending himself against his more sensible side.

John chuckled. "You're mouth is soft too -- your lips are very fun to kiss," he grinned. 

"Hmm . . . I'm not sure about that," he said smiling. "Do you want me to rub your back some more?"

"Then we'll have to stop kissing and I like that better," John smiled. 

"So selfish," Sherlock mumbled as he kissed John again.

John shook his head. "You get kisses too," he said against his mouth, pressing in for another kiss. 

"All right then," Sherlock said, lifting his hands to John's head again, tangling his fingers in his hair. He looked over John's face and then kissed him again.

John bit his lip for the brief moment it took Sherlock to admire his face before releasing it to kiss him back, pushing his tongue into Sherlock's mouth with a small hum. 

Sherlock let his tongue slip against John's and then he sucked on his bottom lip before nipping it softly. "Mmm," he moaned quietly, his hands now moving up and down John's back slowly.

"Back rub and kisses," John smiled, scooting closer and wrapping his arm around Sherlock so they could press together. 

"I'm quite talented when I want to be," Sherlock said. He smiled.

John smiled back and dipped to kiss his neck again. "How do you feel about love marks?" he asked softly. 

"I don't know that I've ever had one before," Sherlock said. "But I'm not against having the concept."

John moved a bit lower so Sherlock could hide it easily before he started sucking softly.

Sherlock titled his head back again and rest his hands on John's back, feeling the movement of John's mouth on his skin. It felt wet and warm and he could feel his whole body starting to heat up. 

After a bit John started to nip lightly, licking the spot after and sucking harder. His hands rubbed Sherlock's ribs lightly as he worked.

Sherlock really liked the feeling. After a few minutes, he said softly, "Maybe we should take our clothes off?" He didn't move his head to look down at John.

John continued kissing as he pushed his hands into Sherlock's shirt, moving away only when he had to lift the shirt over his head. He sat up and pulled his own shirt over his head, smiling down at him.

"Bottoms, too?" Sherlock said, tentatively. "You said I could touch you or were you just teasing? It's okay if you were."

"Bottoms too," John nodded. "I wasn't teasing." He tugged his own bottoms off and let them fall to the ground before pulling Sherlock's off as well. He crawled a bit closer and took Sherlock's hand, slowly putting it on his lower belly and letting him go from there. 

Sherlock smiled at John and spread his fingers across his the skin of his belly as he leaned in for another kiss. Then he shifted their bodies so they were facing each other on their sides. He moved his hand to John's hips and pulled him closer, so their soft cocks pressed against each other. He continued to kiss John's mouth softly.

John huffed a hot breath as he kissed back, wrapping his own hand around Sherlock and rubbing his bare lower back. His skin was soft and warm. 

Sherlock slipped his hand between their bodies and lightly held John's cock. He moved his mouth to John's neck and kissed and sucked softly. "Everything okay so far?" he quietly asked.

"Oh . . . yes," John breathed, tilting his head back for Sherlock.

As John's cock stiffened, Sherlock slowly started to stroke it, going back to kissing John's neck and dipping down to lick his collarbone.

John moaned softly and moved impossibly closer. He reached for Sherlock, copying his slow movements with a firmer grip. 

Sherlock lifted his hand and licked it so his movement on John could be a bit tighter but smoother. "Tell me what you want me to do," Sherlock said softly. "Do you like it like this?"

John nodded. "It feels good . . . just a bit harder." He shifted and got on top of him, rocking his hips so their cocks slid together as they stroked them. "Is this good?"

"Yes, it's good," Sherlock said, gripping a bit more tightly and lifting his hips to meet John's. The feel of skin against skin, hand against hand, and cock against cock was delicious. He didn't want to stop.

"Do you . . . do you have things here? Just in case," John asked softly, burying into his neck again and sucking lightly. 

Sherlock said, "Do you mean condoms? I do. I also have some . . . lube . . . just in case, I mean." He lifted one hand to John's hair as his other hand moved against his cock.

John flushed and ground against him harder. "How do you feel about that?" he asked quietly. 

"I feel fine about it, I want to . . . I want you, but it's also important to me that you know you want to. That you won't regret it. I worried that you'd regret what happened at the party -- I don't want you to ever regret anything," Sherlock said honestly.

John met his gaze. "I won't regret it . . . I wouldn't offer if I didn't want to," he said, leaning in to kiss him softly.

Sherlock slowed their movement and then shifted slightly so John was lying next to him. "All right then," he said, looking John in the eyes. "But let's talk about it first."


	7. Sex

"It's different with men . . . obviously," Sherlock said. "There are thing we can do to each other, but there's also things that one of us could do to the other. Do you understand what I'm talking about it?" He swallowed. "I don't want to stop it what we're doing, but I'd rather have an idea of what you're thinking about . . ."

"I know it's different. Obviously I've never tried it either way so . . .so I don't know what to say. Um...do you have a preference?" John asked, holding his gaze as he rubbed Sherlock's hip slowly.

"I don't have a preference, I guess," Sherlock said. "If you've done it with a woman, it's the same premise -- would you feel more comfortable doing it to me? It'd be less new, I guess."

"Okay," John nodded. "We can do it that way."

"I don't mean we have to plan everything out -- I just don't want you to feel pressured, not by me even, just by the moment. I just don't want you to regret." He sat up a little. "All right, look, we're going to stop talking about it here as soon as I say one more thing. It's a lot like what you've already done probably except I'll need a little . . . preparation in a way that women don't." He reached over and got the condoms and lube out of the drawer and set them on the table. "I'll do to you what you need to do to me and then if we decide to go all the way, well, the condoms are right there. If we decide not to, that's fine as well. Okay?" He laid back down and kissed John on the nose. 

"I know what to do to you . . . I've seen videos . . ." John said, blushing a little. He moved over top of Sherlock and grabbed the lube. "I can do it."

"Fine," Sherlock said slumping back on the bed pouting. "Did it ever cross your mind to think I was just doing that as an excuse to get my hands on you?" he asked, smiling cheekily.

John looked up at him and smiled. "Fine. I'm not going to start anything yet. I'll give you free reign and we can go from there. Is that what you want?"

"You're seriously asking me if I want free reign over your body? You don't know me at all, John Watson!" Sherlock said, laughing. He popped up and moved over top of John, pinning him down on the bed. He straddled him and looked down at his face, smiling, before leaning down and give him a long, wet kiss.

John hummed into the kiss and relaxed under Sherlock, wiggling lightly in happiness. He liked Sherlock's weight on him. 

Sherlock moved slowly down John's body -- kissing his neck and then chest and down the middle of his belly. He shifted his weight lower and then gripped John's cock with one hand, stroking a few times as he continued to kiss John's lower belly. Then he dipped his head and flicked his tongue over the tip of John's cock before tipping it into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around it and then let it slip out so he could lick it up and down.

"Oh! Sherlock, I --" John cut off with a small moan sinking back into the bed. His fingers laced into Sherlock's hair and he curled his fingers lightly, trying not to buck up into his mouth.

Sherlock sucked John back into his mouth, swirling his tongue again. He hummed softly and gripped one of John's thighs. He glanced up and John's face to watch his reactions.

John's free hand came up to bury into his own hair, closing his eyes as pleasure coursed through every nerve. He murmured breathless praises as he focused on Sherlock's mouth, the wet heat surrounding him. 

Sherlock found all this very sexy. It'd been a while since he had been with anyone, but still this felt different in many ways. He felt like he knew John so well even though he really didn't, but more importantly at this moment, he felt like he just wanted to make John feel so good. He kept a steady movement over John -- licking up and down and then sucking in, over and over.

"If you keep that up we'll . . . we won't get to everything else," John panted softly. He could recover and continue afterwards but he was greedy and wanted to try everything now. 

Sherlock lifted his head and smiled. "You taste nice," he said softly, crawling up and cuddling around John.

John smiled and turned to kiss him, long and slow before shifting and settling between his legs. "Let's see if I can say the same," he teased, pressing his mouth to Sherlock's chest and licking his way down with sloppy kisses. He kept this up over his stomach and along his hip, rubbing his cheek on Sherlock's cock as he lined it up with his mouth. He only kissed the tip at first, swirled his tongue over the head and then took him into his mouth. 

Sherlock lifted his head. It was sexy watching John, but he wanted to make sure he was okay. "You all right with this?" he asked softly.

John merely continued bobbing, rubbing Sherlock's lower stomach in response. All that talking before made him so nervous, but simply doing what felt right -- what he wanted -- was better for him. It felt good. 

Sherlock dropped his head back onto the pillow. John's mouth felt so good on him, soft and warm and wet. He shifted himself just a little and dropped one of his hands to his hip to be closer to John. "It feels good," he sighed.

John hummed as he bobbed up and down, swirling his tongue along the bottom. He slid his hand up and took Sherlock's, lacing their fingers as he moved.

Sherlock squeezed John's hand -- such a little thing, but again, it made this all so different than anything Sherlock had done before. He moved his hips just a little, instinctively, without pushing too far.

John tugged his hand lightly and then rubbed with his thumb. That was okay. He moaned around Sherlock again, flicking his tongue over the tip as he came up to it. 

"God, John," Sherlock moaned. His hand moved up to his hair and then covered his face. "It feels so nice, you're good."

John rubbed his hand again, not willing to pull off to answer his lovely praises. He was starting to taste precome, and knew he must be getting close as well. 

Sherlock thought for a moment about just closing his eyes and letting John make him come, but he didn't know if that would be the end of it or if more was going to happen. So he sat up a bit and said, "John, let's kiss again."

John pulled off slowly and made his way back up Sherlock's body, kissing him hard and passionately.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John and pressed into the kiss, letting his tongue slip into John's mouth before moving back and nipping slightly at John's bottom lip. He slid a hand down to John's cock and starting stroking it again, moving all the way up and down, as he sucked on the skin of John's neck.

"M'very close still," John mumbled. He moved his head to find Sherlock's mouth again. He loved the kisses on his neck but he loved kissing Sherlock's mouth more. He simply couldn't get enough of anything. 

"What do you want to do now?" Sherlock said. "Sleep time?" He smiled as he kept kissing John.

"If you want me to explode," John murmured, smiling against his lips as they kissed.

"I kind of do," Sherlock said. "But sleeping's not how I want it to happen. What else could we do that would make you explode?"

John smiled wider and kissed him again. "We could have sex," he said, grinning even more like a fool now. 

Sherlock pretending he was thinking it over. "All right then if you insist," he curled around John and squeezed him. "Let's go then, get a move on." He pulled a funny face at him.

"How are you so sexy while you're being an arse?" John grinned. He moved down Sherlock's body, pulling the supplies close again. 

"I suppose it just comes naturally," Sherlock said. "What can I say?" He smiled and said, "How do you want me?"

"Can you hold your legs back until I can prepare you? Or you could turn around for me," he suggested. He didn't know what would be the easiest for Sherlock but he wanted him to be comfortable.

"Okay first off, never use the word 'prepare' again -- you're not prepping me for surgery, Doctor Watson. Don't go into some medical fantasy with me," Sherlock said, laughing. He propped his feet up on the bed but not before using one to softly kick at John's arm.

"Hey, that's a perfectly fine word, okay?" John pointed out. He poured some lube onto his hand and gently rubbed over Sherlock's entrance, simply getting everything wet, wanting Sherlock to get accustomed to being touched there. 

"How about just touching? That's what you're doing, you fool," Sherlock said. "Come up and give me a kiss before you do anything else."

"I don't know, Sherlock. All of these insults are making me very upset," John teased. 

"I'm not insulting you. Do you think this is normally the position I'm in when I'm talking to people I'm insulting?" Sherlock said.

"Hmm . . ." John smiled, considering him for a moment before leaning up to kiss him. He kept it slow and sensual, pushing a finger in slowly while he had Sherlock distracted. 

Sherlock smiled into the kiss. "Excellent move, John Watson," he said softly, wrapping his arm around John's shoulder and pulling him down. He breathed a slow exhale against John's ear and said, "Are you sure you've never done this before?"

John nodded against him, slowly moving his finger in and out. "How does it feel?" he asked. 

"It feels fucking fantastic," Sherlock said, kissing the side of John's neck. "I hope I can do it to you sometime." He dropped his head back and let his body take John in, moving slightly on the bed in the rhythm of John's fingers.

"Soon," John murmured, carefully pushing in a second finger. He shifted for better leverage so he could control his hand better.

Sherlock leaned over and kissed John's arm and then sucked and bit the skin. He shifted his legs a little and let his hips to rock to press against John's fingers.

"You're gorgeous, Sherlock. Perfect . . ." John murmured his praises as his fingers moved and spread open softly.

"It's you," Sherlock said. "God, you feel good." He bit John's arm again. "When we do it, I want to kiss, okay?" He kind of surprised himself that he said it so openly, but it's what he really wanted.

"Okay," John agreed. "Just a bit more..." when his fingers moved easily John slowly pushed on a third. Now he moved away a bit so he could open the condoms and roll one on, putting a bit more lube on that as well. Slowly he pulled his fingers out and hovered over Sherlock. He lined up but leaned down to kiss him, waiting a few seconds before slowly pushing in.

Sherlock let out a slow gasp as he stretched to take John in. "God," he mumbled as his body adjusted. He took a few deep breaths and then opened his eyes and looked at John. "It feels good. Are you okay? Does it feel different?" he asked, kissing the side of John's face.

"Different," John nodded, holding his breath until he was seated completely inside of him. "Oh God," he moaned as he released his breath, finding Sherlock's mouth again. As they kissed he started to pull out slowly. "It's . . . it feels good . . ."

Sherlock slid his arms around John's lower back and pressed. He rocked his hips up against John so he knew he could move, and then he gave John a hard, wet kiss. 

John moaned into the kiss and started to move back and forth, rolling his hips into Sherlock as he gripped the bed beside him. He'd never felt anything so intense or so intimate before. Heat was flooding his every nerve with every move he made. 

"John," Sherlock moaned against John's movement. He pressed harder against John's back and lifted his hips into him. He could hear the bed rocking with each of John's thrusts.

"God, Sherlock . . ." John groaned, bringing one hand to hold tightly to his hip. He was panting now, pushing into Sherlock properly.

"I just want this to make you feel good," Sherlock said, turning his head to the side and pushing back against the pillow. It felt good to him, but he realised it was really important to him that John loved it.

John nodded. "Feels fantastic. You . . . you feel fantastic," he breathed. He leaned down to kiss him again, filling to kiss his neck.

"Is this what you like then -- having sex with men?" Sherlock asked cheekily. He smiled into John's kiss.

John chuckled breathlessly and nodded. "I like having sex with you," he murmured.

"I like it, too," Sherlock said, looking up into John's eyes. "I like you, John Watson."

"I like you, too," John murmured, his hips pounding into Sherlock. He kissed him again, bringing his hand from Sherlock's hip into his hair.

Sherlock closed his eyes and rocked against John. His hands moved up and down his back and then he gripped John's arms.

When the kiss broke John moved his hand down between them, stroking Sherlock in time with his thrusting. It was lovely to feel Sherlock moving with him.

"Fuck," Sherlock gasped. It felt so good -- his heart rate immediately increased and he could feel his cheeks warm and flush. "John . . . it's good."

John nodded his agreement, unable to speak now as he panted and moaned. "M'close," he managed, kissing Sherlock again.

"Me too," Sherlock said, letting himself move freely even though it was all a bit chaotic.

John groaned and pushed into him, gasping as he came before he could say it again. His hand gripped into the bed as his back arched, his hand pausing its movements for just a second as he started to get his senses back. He panted heavily as he resumed stroking Sherlock.

Sherlock found John's orgasm both extremely satisfying and extremely sexy and he came easily into John's hand, panting as he spilled across his belly. He didn't care about the mess as he reached up and pulled John to him, squeezing him tight and breathing hard against John's shoulder.

John lay against him as he caught his breath, sliding his hand up to pet his hair lightly. He hadn't even pulled out yet but he just needed one more minute to get himself together. "Sherlock," he murmured with a small sigh, saying it just to say it. He'd never felt so happy and good.  

Sherlock's body tensed for a just a second. "Please don't say you regret that," he said softly.

"What?" John shifted, pulled out gently, and propped himself up to look at him. "Sherlock, of course not," he said. He kissed Sherlock softly. "Of course I don't."

"Good," Sherlock said, blushing a little, "good. Sorry. It's just . . . I don't regret it at all and I don't want you to." He kissed John again.

John shook his head. "I don't at all," he smiled. He pulled the condom off and tied it before moving to put it in the bin. Then he came back to bed and lay beside Sherlock on his side. "How do you feel? Physically," he asked softly. 

"A little sore," Sherlock admitted. "It's been a while. I guess I won't be running that marathon tomorrow after all . . ." he grinned. "It's fine, it won't last long." He squeezed John to him. "I'm glad you're here."

John nodded, stroking his cheek. "I'm glad I'm here, too. I'm glad I'm with you."

"So are you my boyfriend now?" Sherlock asked. "I feel like I'd like you to be, but I'm not sure how good I'll be as a boyfriend." He softly stroked the tops of John's shoulders.

"I would like to be as well," John smiled.

"Good. It's official then. John Watson, you are my first boyfriend," Sherlock said smiling, pulling his other hand around to shake John's. "Deal?"

"I seal deals with kisses," John grinned, leaning in and pecking his lips. "Deal."

Sherlock kissed John back and squeezed his arm around him. "Are you ready to sleep now?"

"I could sleep, yes," John said, laying back down. He took Sherlock's hand and smiled over at him.

Sherlock snuggled into John. He closed his eyes and thought for a few moments.

"John," he said softly. "I've known you for about forty eight hours and this is the second time you've slept at my place. That's . . . quite unusual, don't you think?

John stroked Sherlock's arm lightly. He nodded and whispered, "Yeah, it is." He worried about Sherlock was going to say next.

"I told you I was unusual," Sherlock said. He swallowed. "Thank you for being unusual with me."  
  
"Thank you, Sherlock," John smiled. "Thank you for . . . everything."


End file.
